Enjoying the view of a lake from an outcropping of
rock, the picturesque beauty of my country sweeps me
into a quiet moment of peace. Going for a small hike
by myself was a great idea. Camping with my dancer
friends has been fun but it’s nice to get some “me”
time.

I hear a rustling in the bushes, and reach for my
air horn. . . Then it hits. A tentacle, slaps my
face, pushing me to the ground. It recoils and comes
again, grabbing my hand. Another tentacle grasps my
other hand, and the two tentacle pull my arms
together. I swing my legs up to try to kick at the –
the thing.

One of the tentacles wraps around both of my wrists,
freeing up the second tentacle which hooks itself
onto my shirt between my breasts, pulling so hard
the fabric begins to tear.

Two
more tentacles strike out, expertly spiralling
around my ankles as I kick furiously, but to no
avail. The creature emerges from the bushes, a dark
purple monstrosity with many eyes protruding from a
small base. Extending from its body are nine
tentacles in all, one of which ending in what
appears to be a shiny hard cock head.

The five tentacles which are not engaged in my
restraint, proceed to tear every piece of clothing
from my shaking body. The bulbous sack on its base
throbs as its extremities begin to glisten with the
secretion of a sticky substance.

The tentacles around my ankles snake even further up
my legs, wrapping all the around and up to my hips,
spreading them and forcing them wide open.
Two of the dexterous tentacles thrust up into my
tight pussy, probing, searching and stretching my
labia open. I reel against the sensation.
The Phalice tipped tentacle rears back, like a snake
poised to strike its prey. There is a moment of
tension, a chance for me to realise what is about to
happen next. Then the Phalice thrusts into my fleshy
depths, I scream.

To Be
Continued in Part Two : " Where is Jack Harkness
when you need him? "

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